CTU:Dragging Hooks
by Bluenose
Summary: CTU LA faces another domestic terror threat, and one that strikes close to home for Director Michelle Dessler. Title provided by The Cowboy Junkies. COMPLETE!
1. Default Chapter

Hey,

I'm back. This story is set about six months after CTU: The Shadowlands. I'm pretty sure it's you don't need to have read that story to follow this, but it does use the same group of characters:

**Michelle Dessler**:- Director of CTU

**Tom Baker**:- Head of Field Ops

**Nathan Gault**- CTU Field Operative

**Chloe O'Brien**- Field Op

**Adam Kaufman**- CTU Communications

**Tony Almeida**- CTU Communications, second in command of CTU

**Ashley Webber **– CTU Undercover Operative.

**Natasha Grey**- Chapelle's replacement at Division. Her political ambitions were shattered by Brad Hammond at the end of The Shadowlands, but she has too many connections and allies for him to force her out.

I own nothing to do with 24. Amy Gardner is a West Wing character, I'm borrowing for this story.

And with that, on with the story.

**Chapter One**

The sound of a ringing phone woke him.

He squinted at the clock as he fumbled for the phone, careful not to wake Michelle. 3:27 am. Who the fuck would be ringing them at this time in the morning? He grinned sourly, knowing the answer to that before he'd even finished the question.

"Almeida." Doing his best to stifle a yawn.

"Hey Tony."

The voice at the other end of the line brought him instantly alert. "Jack." He moved carefully out of bed, walking quietly across the bedroom floor, keeping his voice low. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Jack coughed, his voice oddly tinny and distorted. "Nothings wrong. Just wanted to hear a friendly voice. How are things? How's work?"

"Good. Things kept going, Jack, you know what that place is like. It didn't fall apart after you left." Tony hesitated, not sure if he wanted his question answered. "Where are you Jack?"

"On my way to DC. Thought it was time I put a few ghosts to rest." The voice at the other end of the phone sighed heavily. "How are things with you and Michelle? I heard she took over from you."

Tony turned in the hallway, staring through the bedroom door at his sleeping wife. "Things were rough for a while, but we're okay. She's…" He broke off as Michelle moved in her sleep, reaching out for him. "Jesus Christ Jack, how can I watch her do this to herself? I watch her at work, at home, and the fucking job eats at her, worms its fingers into her and there's nothing I can do…" He broke off again, aware that his voice had risen. Aware that he was teetering on the verge of tears.

"Give her some advice from me Tony. Tell her to walk away. If it starts to come between you, starts to haunt her, tell her to get the fuck away from those bastards. Make her promise you that Tony."

"I will."

"I'd better go. Good to hear you Tony."

"And you." Tony held the phone for a moment after Jack hung up. Then padded carefully back across their room. Replacing the phone, and climbing back into bed.

"Who was on the phone?" Her voice, still slurred with sleep.

Tony pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms protectively around her, kissing her head through her curly hair. "Nobody important. Go back to sleep."

Michelle smiled, her eyes still closed, linking her fingers through his. Soon she was asleep again, her expression peaceful.

Tony stayed awake as long as he could. Watching her sleep. Wishing he could protect her.

xxxXXXxxx

"Murdering bitch!"

The woman, the girl, flinched as the rotten fruit struck her on the shoulder, splattering on her clothes. Her eyes darted about, seeking escape from the crowd pressed in around her. Taunts and insults welled around her, as the crowd pushed against the police, struggling to keep the path to the clinic open.

"How can you do this?"

She took another step, her hands curled protectively around her stomach. There was no escape, nowhere to go. No option but to take another step. And then another.

"How can you kill what God has given you? What gives you that right?"

"Reject Satan, and his evil ways! Embrace God and that that He has chosen for you!"

And then she was at the doors of the clinic. She stepped through them and they closed behind her like a steel trap, shutting off the noise and the heat.

xxxXXXxxx

"I just felt so alone." She bowed her head, allowing her blond hair to fall over her face. "I didn't know what else to do. I felt so ashamed, my parents made me feel so ashamed."

"What did you do?" His voice was soft, compassionate, understanding.

She couldn't bear to look at him, at the circle around them. Couldn't stand to see the sympathy in their eyes. "I listened to….I went to the clinic. I didn't know what else to do. My parents talked me into it."

"How do you feel about it?"

She lifted her head, letting them see the tears snaking their way down her face. "I still cry for my child. I still cry when I think about what they did to me. But I know that my baby is in a better place."

"And your parents? What about them?"

She made no effort to hide her tears. They needed to see her cry. "I forgive them." Her voice breaking, she looked around the circle, seeing the same emotions on the faces of many people around her. One woman, no older than her, reached out and squeezed her hand. "They didn't know what they were asking me to do. They were misled."

"Who misled them?"

"The Women's Alliance." She wiped her face, drying her eyes. "Graham Lester." Her voice fell, soft as a whisper, as a lost breath. "Amy Gardner."

"And it is they that must pay for the murder of your child. They must pay for the atrocities they have committed in the name of science and convenience, for the murders they have condoned." He sat back in his chair, smiling benevolently at the group. "You've made excellent progress since you came to us. You're hardly recognisable from the distraught, bereaved young woman that stumbled into our meeting. I'm glad you found us. I'm glad we found you."

She bowed her head again, cheeks flushed from his praise.

"I think you're ready for the next step. I think you're ready to phone your parents and tell them that you forgive them. Tell them that all sins, even theirs can be atoned for."

"When should I phone them?"

"In the morning, after a night of prayer to cleanse your own soul." He bowed his head in prayer. "The Lord shall send His light to show us the way."

xxxXXXxxx

"There was further violence at the Graham Lester Clinic in Los Angeles yesterday. Protesters threw rotten fruit and other missiles at patients, at least one of whom required medical attention. Two policemen were hurt and several protesters were arrested."

"A spokesman for Dr Lester said that 'while they appreciated and respected the Constitutional rights of the protesters' he requested 'they spend some time thinking about the rights of the young women, often the victims of abuse or sexual assault who attend the clinic.'"

"Phillip Maguire, of the organisation Rights Of The Child, which is organising the demonstration at Dr Lester's facility, insisted the protests would continue until 'Dr Lester admitted to his role in the murder of countless children, closed his death camp and agreed to stand trial for multiple counts of murder.'"

"Meanwhile, Amy Gardner, the high profile, pro-choice Senate candidate for The Women's Alliance arrives in LA this morning as part of her campaign. She refused to comment directly on the controversy, saying only that she 'hoped that the Constitutional rights of all involved would be respected.'"

"This CSRFM, I'll be back with more news in an hour."

xxxXXXxxx

Even now, more than a year after his resignation, it was difficult to think of CTU, to think about CTU without thinking of Jack. Thinking of everything he had sacrificed to do the job. What they had all sacrificed.

Automatically, he glanced up at her office. At least she had slept last night. Slept while he had held her in his arms. Sometimes he hated this job, hated what it did to her.

His phone rang. Automatically, still looking at Michelle's office, he pressed the speaker button. "CTU, Almeida."

"Hello, Daddy."

Her voice shattered his complacency. Hastily he snatched the phone up, hoping that whoever was standing with her hadn't heard any of the CTU background noise. "Hello sweetheart." He snapped his fingers, trying to attract Adam's attention, trying to get the trace started. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Daddy."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at peace, Daddy. I'm with my child."

"Wont you come home, sweetheart. Your mother and I miss you…"

"I forgive you Daddy. I forgive you today. Today is the day of redemption, the day of atonement, the day that all sins are forgiven."

"Sweetheart…"

The line went dead.

"Shit." Tony glanced at Adam. "Did we get a trace?"

Headphones pressed against his ears, Adam shook his head.

"Shit." He dialled hastily. Turning in his chair to watch her pick up the phone.

"CTU Dessler."

"Michelle, Ashley's just made contact. It's today."


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"Do we know who the target is?" Michelle walked into the conference room and sat down at the head of the table.

Adam pressed a button, highlighting an image on the screen. "Amy Gardner."

"Why her?"

"She's the electoral candidate for The Women's Alliance. They've been providing financial and political support for Lester's clinic throughout California."

"What does this have to do with the trouble at Lester's clinic?"

Michelle leaned forward. "About six months ago, we received intelligence that Rights of the Child had connections with extremist, pseudo-religious groups within the United States. Since then, Ashley has been undercover inside the Rights of the Child."

Tom nodded, his eyes unblinking, still studying the woman's face. "And Rights of the Child have been organising the protests outside Lester's clinic." He hesitated for a second, biting at his lip. "Why not the clinic itself?"

Tony shook his head. "Maybe as a secondary target, but all of our intel suggests that the primary threat will be against Gardner."

"This is a step up from the usual right wing bullshit. How sophisticated are this group?"

"Sophisticated enough to pull this off." Michelle glanced around the table. "Make no mistake, this is no petrol bomb through the letterbox bullshit. This is a genuine threat."

"Okay." Tom sat back. "So what protocols are we going to run?"

"I want you and Nathan to co-ordinate with Gardner's security people. I don't want anything to happen to her on our watch." Michelle turned in her seat. "Tony…"

"Wait a second. Nathan's on leave today. He hasn't had a rest day in three months."

"I don't care." Michelle made her voice as hard as she could. "I want you both on this."

Tom nodded, making a note on his pad. "I'll get in touch with him."

"Good. Thank you." Michelle looked back at Tony. "See if there's anyway you can make contact with Ashley, if there's anyway she can get more intel to us. I'll talk to Gardner's security detail, let them know we're coming." She looked around the table again. "Let's get to work people, you know what you have to do."

xxxXXXxxx

They saw the car arrive at the side of the kerb. Saw the young, frightened girl get out, supported by her parents. The girl took a look around her and walked towards the clinic. The line on either side of her, tensed, readying themselves.

The protestors surged forward, halted by the link arms of the guards. Reaching between their shoulders to wave their banners in the face of the terrified girl, almost dragged forward by her parents as the cacophony of noise burst across her like a dam.

She felt herself swallowed up, drowned inside the same wave of anger and hatred that spilled across the protestors. The same insults….

"…murdering bitch…."

"…whore…"

…torn from her throat, leaving it raw and bleeding, the words flecked with hatred and blood, spilling across the girl, huddled within the protective embrace of her parents, trying desperately, hopelessly to protect her from the mob's anger. Her father, leaning, close, his arm around her, trying to shield her from their missiles, his own clothes smeared and stained.

Desperately, she tried to cling to herself. Tried to remember who she was, tried to remember what she was. Keep something of herself back, safe from this sea of hatred, of anger.

Trying to keep enough of herself back to do her job.

She took a step back, away from the press of people, looking around the protestors, trying to find the people who's names she had been given, people she had spent almost six months getting close to, people she had come to admire for their compassion and understanding.

People she knew were a threat to national security.

She found them easily enough, even in the crowd. People with enough money, influences, and connections to make this group a genuine threat. Talking together, glancing at the clinic, analyzing its security, its weak points, its vulnerabilities.

She looked away quickly, filing the information away until she could get to a phone.

The clinic was defiantly a target.

xxxXXXxxx

Nathan groaned when he heard his cell phone ringing. He rolled over, opening an eye to squint at the clock. He groaned again, reaching out to answer it, careful not to wake Rebecca. "Gault."

"Nathan, its Chloe. Michelle wants you to come in. Tom's on his way to pick you up."

"It's my day off Chloe. I'm not coming in today." He could hear Rebecca stirring in her sleep next to him. "I'm going to hang up now, and then I'm going to turn my phone off."

"Fine. I'll just tell Michelle you're refusing to come in. I hope she's not too pissed off at you when she gets her hands on you."

"Okay. How far out is Tom?"

"About five minutes."

"I'll be there." He broke the connection and rolled onto his back. Taking another minute to collect his thoughts. How the fuck was he going to explain this to Rebecca?

xxxXXXxxx

Michelle chewed nervously on her lip as she clung to her phone, listening. Feeling each word stab into her, twisting like a knife. "Are you sure?"

She knew she should feel different. She wished she did. Wished she felt something other than this cold dead feeling inside of her.

"Yes, quite sure. I did it myself, Michelle. Relax."

'Relax'. She wished she could. She tried to imagine his face, tried to imagine his reaction. "Yes…"

"Are you okay, Michelle?" The enthusiasm, the excitement gone, changed, tempered now with concern. "Michelle?"

"What? Yes, yes, I'm fine." Michelle rubbed at her forehead. "You've just caught me a little by surprise. Tony and I…"

"If you need somebody to talk to, I know several people who come very highly recommended. If you're having any doubts, or feeling even the slightest bit unsure, I think you should talk to someone."

"I will, thank you." Michelle hung up and let her head sink into her hands. How the hell was she going to tell him about this?

xxxXXXxxx

"I'm sorry about this Nathan, but this intel only came in this morning. How did Rebecca take it?"

Nathan grinned bitterly. "Not well. She'd been planning this for the past month. She threw a fucking shoe at me."

Tom laughed briefly. "Fiery."

"You said it." Nathan shook his head. "Anyway, what's this intel?"

"Ashley's made contact. There's a threat from a terrorist group connected with Rights of the Child. Michelle thinks that Amy Gardner will be the principle target."

"You notice anything strange about Michelle recently?"

"Strange?" Tom frowned, thinking back over meetings, working late nights, pushing themselves too hard. She had looked tired, but no more than they all had. "What do you mean strange?"

"Weird." Nathan shrugged. "I don't know. Distant, unfocused. Are things okay between her and Tony?"

"As far as I know. She's more than competent to do her job."

"That wasn't what I meant Tom."

"I need you focused on this, Nathan."

Nathan fell silent, peering through the windscreen. "Do we have her schedule yet?" Tom nodded, steering the car through the early morning traffic. Nathan lifted the data pad, paging through Amy Gardner's appointments in LA. "Some of these practically put a target on her back. We're going to have to change them."

"I know."

They drove on in silence.

xxxXXXxxx

"This is CSRFM, its 855am."

"We got traffic build-ups at the usual hotspots. The Freemantle Highway is jammed up on the westbound approach after a three car pile up. Queues are already forming in Pasadena, outside the Rose Bowl where tickets for the game between the Huskers and the Schooners go on sale today."

"Its 857, I'll be back with more before 10."

xxxXXXxxx

"Amy, I got journalists from the Los Angeles Herald and the San Diego Chronicle on the phone. They want to know if you have any further comment about the trouble at Lester's clinic."

Amy Gardner thought for a second. "Just that I have every confidence in the ability of the Los Angeles Police Department to protect the patients attending the clinic and to spare them from any further trauma." She walked quickly across the room, her assistant scribbling frantically in a notebook. "Anything else?"

"I don't think so." Her assistant flicked through her notepad. "Oh, Josh phoned. He said to pray for rain, and then he laughed a lot." She glanced up, looking confused. "That doesn't make any sense."

Amy laughed. "Doesn't matter, it's an old joke." She stopped, staring at the two men, standing at the door of her suite. "Who are they?"

Her assistant looked over. "CTU agents. They want to talk to you."

She nodded and walked over to them. "I'm Amy Gardner. Can I help you?"

"Ms Gardner, I'm Special Agent Tom Baker, and this is Special Agent Nathan Gault. We have intelligence that indicates that there is a terrorist threat against you."


	3. Chapter Three

A HUGE thank you to everybody that has read and reviewed so far.

I have a new addiction- Madden 2005. I love that game.

Anyway, here's chapter three. Please, read and review.

**Chapter Three**

"I'm sorry Agent Baker, but I find this very hard to believe. Where's this threat coming from?"

Baker shifted uncomfortably. "It's from an organisation connected to Rights of the Child." He glanced quickly around the room, at the campaign workers and volunteers, at the organised chaos breaking around them. "I'd prefer not to say any more until we have more specific intel about the nature of the threat against you."

Amy sighed, shaking her head. "I appreciate the warning, but I already have a security detail. I'm sure they can deal with any threat."

"I know that, Ms Gardner. But they don't have our experience in dealing with this type of situation. We can keep you safe."

"My security staff…"

The other agent, Gault, interrupted her. "We will work with your security people. We're not trying to step on anybody's toes here."

"What will the arrangements be?"

"We will organise your security and liaise with your people while you are in LA. We'll take command and the operation will be run through CTU. We're already working through the threat. There's a good chance that this will be eliminated before you leave LA."

"Okay."

"Good." Tom reached into his pocket and took out his data pad. "We need to talk about your schedule. Some of these engagements place you at too much risk. We need to reorganise…"

"I'm not reorganising my schedule." Amy's voice cut across Tom's, ignoring the data pad he was holding. "I've agreed to increase my security, but I will not be intimidated by these people."

"Ms Gardner…"

"No." She shook her head. "I will not bow down to threats and terrorists. I'm not changing my schedule, Agent Baker, not for you and certainly not for them. I'm not frightened of them."

Phones rang noisily around them, their conversation forgotten, ignored in the midst of her campaign.

"Gardner for the Senate, can I help you? One second please." The girl looked up. "Ms Gardner? I have Phil on the phone for you."

"I'll be there in a minute." Amy looked over at her assistant, then back at Tom. "I'm not changing my schedule, Agent Baker. You need to find a way to deal with that."

He could feel his cheeks starting to burn. "Okay."

"Good." Amy glanced at the phone again. "I'll tell my security chief to expect you. I'm sure he'll love talking to you." She walked off to take the phone call.

Nathan grinned, raising his eyebrows. "And I thought Chloe was stubborn." He watched Amy sit on the edge of the desk, talking on the phone. "This isn't going to be easy, Tom."

"I know." Tom didn't take his eyes from Amy Gardner. "We do what we have to do, Nathan, okay."

Nathan nodded. "Okay."

xxxXXXxxx

"CTU, O'Brien."

"Chloe, its Tony. Have you heard anything from Tom or Ashley yet?"

Chloe sighed heavily. "Just a second Tony, I'll just access the file."

He drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting impatiently. He glanced around the bull pen, at the images flicking across the screen as Adam filtered through members of Rights of the Child.

Chloe's voice reappeared suddenly in his ear, making him start. "Tom made contact with Amy Gardner about fifteen minutes ago. Him and Nathan have taken over Amy Gardner's security detail."

"What about Ashley?"

"Nothing since the original message about an hour and a half ago. Can you pass this onto Michelle?"

"Yeah, sure." He hesitated, playing the conversation through in his head. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, tell Michelle?"

"I wasn't able to get hold of her when Tom phoned. And there's been no activity on her system for the past twenty minutes. Do you know where she is Tony?"

"I think she said something about a meeting with Natasha this morning. I'll tell her. Thanks Chloe." Tony hung up and glanced up at her office, dark and silent. Trying to battle through the sudden irrational panic.

Where the hell was she?

xxxXXXxxx

"Have you spoken to him yet?"

Startled, she edged closer, using the crowd to shield her movements. Trying to block out the noise and concentrate on what was being said.

"He's on his way."

"Do you know…"

She sensed his eyes, roaming the crowd and she forced herself to step forward. Automatically she raised her voice, joining in with the chants, hurled at the silent, uncaring walls of the facility.

"…you don't know, my friend. Our shield can only extend so far and it will be easier to protect you if you can honestly say that you did not know what was going to happen today."

"What about you?"

She risked a look across at them, safe inside the crowd, protected from their gaze by half a dozen or so protestors.

She looked away hastily. The empty walls of the facility were easier to stare at than the man's grin. Stretched, angry, drenched in the blood of the non-believer.

"I am the sacrifice. I am prepared to die, so that the sins of this place can be forgiven."

xxxXXXxxx

"This is CSRFM. Caller, you're on the hour."

"Well I think its about time that the Police did something about Lester's Clinic."

"Do something? What do you mean do something?"

"Well if any other murder suspect was holed up in a house the way that Lester is, LAPD would be going in with SWAT teams in an effort to bring the suspect to justice. I want to know what the difference is."

"So you think that LAPD should storm Lester's clinic and arrest everybody inside?"

"Exactly."

"Well that's one opinion. Anybody got a different one? Give me a call. Its 0934am, CSRFM will be back after these messages."

xxxXXXxxx

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Carefully wiping her mouth. She hadn't even felt sick until she had put the phone down. Then it had been all she had been aware off, deep inside her, coiling, curling, twisting, desperate to get out.

She had gone to the toilet, somehow holding her composure until she had passed the bullpen. Then she had vomited until her throat was dry and aching. She could still feel it inside her.

She grimaced and forced the feeling away. Wiped her mouth one last time and left the bathroom, clutching a handkerchief. If she could just make it back to her office, just make it through until…

"Michelle." Tony stopped her in the corridor, just before she could slip past him, back to the safety of her office. "I've been looking for you…" He stopped himself, staring at her pale face, at the dark circles underneath her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Tony."

She started to walk around him, and he put his hand on her arm, running his hand swiftly down it to take her hand. "Michelle?"

"I just felt a little queasy." She forced a weak smile. "I shouldn't have had the squid last night. You know what it does to me."

Adam cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt. Michelle, Natasha's on the phone for you." He turned and walked quickly away. Giving them another stolen moment to themselves.

"I'd better take this." She stood on her toes and kissed him swiftly, before hurrying back to her office.

Tony walked back to his own desk. He sat down, staring at the computer screen in front of him, at the telephone.

"Michelle didn't have the squid last night."

xxxXXXxxx

Natasha had been dreading this meeting for six months. For six months she'd rearranged meetings, sent subordinates. Anything to avoid him.

"Ms Grey." Brad smiled humourlessly as he saw her enter the office, a folder under her arm. "I was starting to think you had left the organisation."

Her answering smile was equally humourless. "I'm still here Brad."

His smile faltered for a second, then returned full force. Angrily he pulled out a chair and sat down, talking with his assistant. He kept glancing in her direction, even after the meeting had started.

Natasha met his eyes briefly and looked away hastily. Better to appear to be meek and mild, to let Hammond think he had won. She couldn't afford another war with Hammond, not now.

Not until she had had the chance to make some new allies.

She left as soon as the meeting had finished . Hurrying away, before Hammond had a chance to talk to her, before he had a chance to revel any more in his victory.

She arrived back at her office, stopping at her secretary's desk. "Any calls?"

"Just one, Ms Grey." Ellen lifted a note and handed it to her. "Darren Rose. He wants you to call him back as soon as you can."

Darren Rose. Senator Jarodes' personal pit bull.

"Thank you." Clutching the note she walked into her personal office.

xxxXXXxxx

She slipped through the crowd, drifting away. Taking her time. Keeping her movements nice and slow. Nice and slow. Perfectly normal. 'Move along folks, nothing to see.'

She fought down a sudden irrational, insane burst of laughter.

Fought to focus on her objective. A payphone, three blocks away. She wished for the hundredth time, that her cover had allowed her to have a cell phone. But how many runaways had cell phones?

Even if she had, they would have taken it from her when she joined. She had had to give away all ties to her 'old life', her old life as a sinner and a murderer.

But all her sins had been forgiven. The Reverend had said so.

Almost clear of the crowd. Almost there.

"Ashley."

She halted. Caught again in their net. Looking longingly at the payphone. Tantalisingly close, almost within reach.

"The Reverend wants to see you."


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you again to everybody that has read and reviewed so far.

**Chapter Four**

"Hello, Mr Rose."

"Natasha, I was expecting you to call."

"What can I do for you, Mr Rose?"

"I understand that CTU has been conducting an investigation in Los Angeles against the Rights of the Child. The Senator is concerned about the image that this presents"

Natasha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I can't really comment on that, Mr Rose. It's an on-going operation. Michelle Dessler is very thorough and I am sure that she has reliable intelligence…"

"The Senator is concerned that this will present an image that the Government condones abortions. Understandably he is keen to ensure that that is not the case. He was hoping he could rely on you."

"I'm not sure I can interfere with an on-going investigation. If I get involved, it's going to send up red flags across the whole system. Michelle is likely to dig deeper just to see why I have gotten involved."

"I'm sure you'll be able to think of something, Natasha. I'm sure there are more legitimate targets for CTU to pursue."

Natasha fell silent, waiting for Darren Rose to play his last card. To tell her that Senator Jarode was calling in the favours she owed him.

"I'm sure that the Senator doesn't want what happened with Brad Hammond to end a mutually beneficial relationship. There are other positions, other departments within CTU where I'm sure you could do a marvellous job."

There was no mistaking the implicit threat in his words

"I'll talk to Michelle, see where they are with their investigation. It could just be that something has come up in relation to another operation, and she's just covering all the bases."

"Thank you, Natasha. I'll pass that onto the Senator."

Darren Rose hung up. Leaving her clutching the phone, listening to the sound of an empty line.

xxxXXXxxx

They stared at each other in the dim confines of the limousine. Eyes locked, darting around the interior. Waiting to see who would blink first. Who would flinch first. Who would look away first.

They ignored the woman they were supposed to be protecting, talking quietly on the phone. The only noise in the car.

No one blinked. No one flinched. No one looked away. The atmosphere thick and oppressive, bearing down on them like a shroud, covering them with its dead weight.

"I don't need your help." Michael Peterson kept his voice low. "I have twenty years experience doing this and I've been with Amy for five. I know her, I know how she operates. You don't."

Tom sighed wearily. "We've already been through this. We're not interested in taking over your operation. All we're interested in is keeping Amy alive, but we're gonna need your help to do that."

Peterson held his gaze for a second longer. "What do you want us to do?"

"What security arrangements do you have in place?"

"Standard procedure. Car in front, four men, counting myself." Peterson allowed himself a look of pride. "They're all good men, I recruited them myself."

"Their references all check out?" Nathan spoke for the first time.

Peterson nodded. "Yes, they're all good men." The buzzer in front of him sounded and he leaned forward to the press the answer button. "What is it?"

"We're here, sir." The driver's voice sounded strange, weirdly distorted and disembodied.

"I'll tell her." He released the button. "Amy?" Waiting until she turned to him, covering the speaker with her hand. "We're here." She nodded and went back to her conversation.

The car rolled to a stop and Peterson put his hand on the door handle. "If this threat is real, I hope you guys are as good as you say you are."

xxxXXXxxx

"…is just typical of the right wing poison this country has become infected with."

"I take it you don't think that the LAPD should storm the Lester Clinic then."

"Of course not. That's just another attempt to control the lives of young people, by forcing them to do what the government wants. And to say that Dr Lester is a murderer is just character defamation."

"Character defamation?"

"Yes and that's just typical right wing bull…."

"I'm gonna have to cut you off there caller. Its 1020, and I'll be taking your calls all the way up to 11am, right here on CSRFM."

xxxXXXxxx

His voice rose and swelled, carrying clearly, easily across the room they had taken over. She heard more voices rising, echoing his words, crying out for forgiveness for their past sins.

"Lord, take this offering as we seek forgiveness for the sins that have been committed against You, against Your Will. Protect us, Lord, as we strive to work Your will on earth. Take this offering, Lord, the first working of Your will today."

He lit the yew branches in front of him and they burst into flame. Heavily scented clouds of smoke framing his face, the flames hi-lighting his heavy features.

Around him, the congregation bowed their heads, echoing his words, their voices rising in harmony with his, rising with their prayers. Hastily she copied the motion, the words rising easily to her lips, her mind tumbling with a thousand thoughts, a thousand worries.

Had he made her?

The Reverend Jackson Alexander spread his arms wide, repeating his benediction, dismissing the congregation. They walked slowly past her, smiling, many of them whispering greetings to her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. They all remembered what she had been like at her first meeting, full of grief and anger over the murder of her child.

They all remembered what she had pretended to be like.

Had he made her?

The Reverend walked slowly towards her, stopping in front of the makeshift cross, bowing his head in muttered prayer. As he got closer, she could smell the heavy scent of the burnt yew still clinging to his clothes.

She tried to swallow her nerves, forcing herself to smile. "Hello Reverend."

"Hello Ashley." He didn't smile, his features still cold and hard. The features of a warrior. "Sit down please. I need to talk to you."

xxxXXXxxx

"Did you get anything on the background checks?"

Adam shook his head. "I ran the check on all the known members of the Rights of the Child. Some of them have criminal records, mostly for disturbances of the peace. The only one with any major jail time is Reverend Jackson Alexander, the head of the organisation."

"Thanks Adam." Michelle raised her voice. "Alright people, listen up." Around her, the bull pen fell silent, CTU staffers pressing in closer to hear what she said. "We need to broaden the search parameters. Run a full search on the Reverend Jackson Alexander, all of his contacts, his background, his history. Everything. Adam, check for anybody on the FBI watch list who might share their ideology and anybody who might just have taken their money."

"We should look into who's been supporting them as well." Tony waited until Michelle met his eyes, keeping his voice low and even. "See if the channel runs both ways."

Michelle nodded. "Good idea." She looked around the bullpen. "Lets get to it people."

xxxXXXxxx

"…need your help Ashley. I cannot do this alone. Our plan relies on you."

She bowed her head again, letting her hair cover her face. Pretending to think. What choice did she have? "I'd be honoured, Reverend." She smiled sadly. "At least it will give me the chance to be with my child again."

The Reverend Alexander smiled indulgently. "Of course. I know, better than most, how you have suffered since that terrible day." He rose to his feet, oddly graceful for such a large man, looming over her. "Come to the diner this afternoon. I will perform the blessing then."

"Okay, Reverend. Thank you." She bowed her head again, closing her eyes, as she felt his thick fingers trace the sign of the Cross on her forehead.

She had to find a telephone.

xxxXXXxxx

It was worse on the way out.

It had been difficult enough to get her into the building. The large expectant crowded pushing forward as soon as they saw the Senatorial candidate. Stretching out to shake her hand, to touch her.

And Amy Gardner, drunk on the crowd's adulation, reaching into the crowd, shaking hands, smiling for photos.

It was worse on the way out. The crowd, fired up by her speech, pushing forward against the thin line of LAPD officers.

"Where's the car?"

"It's coming."

Tom bit his lip in frustration and impatience.

…just as a police officer slipped under the pressure. The crowd spilling out onto the walkway, rushing forwards towards the candidate. The people on the other side, seeing the people opposite them getting close to the candidate, started to push forward, the police line in front of them giving ground.

Amy Gardner stared at the press of people, her face pale, frozen. Helpless. Caught.

Nathan Gault stepped in front of her, his nightstick in his hand.

"Where the fuck is the car?"

xxxXXXxxx

He stepped off the train, a rucksack slung over his shoulder. He took a quick look around him and walked off the platform, fishing in his pocket for his cell phone. Dialling quickly.

It rang once.

"I'm here."


	5. Chapter Five

Thanks again to everybody that has read and reviewed so far.

There's a couple of song references in this chapter

Eat For Two by 10'000 Maniacs. Its on Blind Mans Zoo

Children In Bloom by Counting Crows. It's available on Recovering the Satellites

**Chapter Five**

"Where the fuck is the car?"

"I'll go find it, bring it round." Peterson darted away before Tom could say anything, speaking rapidly into his radio.

Tom glanced at angrily at Peterson's men, making sure they stayed where they were. "Hold your positions. Nobody breaks formation. Understand?"

"Understood."

"Tom…" Nathan kept his eyes on the stumbling, faltering police line, shattered and broken by the press of the adoring, enthusiastic crowd. They could hear the noise, growing around them, cries for attention getting louder. He tightened his grip on his nightstick. "We need to go."

Tom pressed his microphone. "Peterson, where the hell is the car?" He tapped it again. "Peterson…Peterson? Shit." He switched the receiver off. "Nathan, I cant pick up Peterson."

"We're running out of time, Tom."

"Amy, stay between us. We'll protect you." Tom raised his voice. "Lets get out of here. Nice and slow. One step at a time. Don't leave any gaps." He glanced darkly at the crowd, so close now he had to jerk his head out of the way as a hand was thrust towards them for Amy to shake. "We don't know who's out there." He took a step back, cutting down the distance between them. "Everybody ready?"

"Yeah."

"Lets move."

Step by torturous step, they advanced. Close enough to smell the sweat of the crowd, their shouts ringing around them, the police struggling to keep their footing.

"Keep back please, give them room." A police officer coughed harshly, his voice strained with effort and shouting. "Please keep back."

Tom braced his nightstick across one particularly persistent man's chest and shoved hard. Knocking him back into the crowd, knocking him from his feet. "I said get back, dammit."

Another step.

The crowd pressing closer, forcing Nathan to slow his pace even further, as they pushed in against him, backing him up against Amy.

"Stay tight." Tom looked into the crowd, at the man he'd just knocked over. "Where the hell is Peterson with that damned car?"

Peterson.

He fought against the urge to look over his shoulder. He could almost imagine the cross hairs, focusing in, aiming at their target. An anonymous finger tightening around the trigger.

The car pulled up at the curb, Peterson flinging open the back door.

xxxXXXxxx

"CTU, Dessler."

"Michelle, its Natasha. I need to talk to you."

"About what?" What the hell did she want? Michelle rubbed at her forehead, surprised and relieved to discover that she didn't find a headache, pushing back, writhing underneath her touch like a living thing.

She had other things to worry about, other than just a headache.

"I understand you are conducting an investigation into the Rights of the Child."

'How the hell did she know that?' Michelle hesitated for a second, choosing her words carefully. "We've received some intel, linking them to a terrorist strike today."

"What stage is the investigation at?"

"We're still analyzing all the intelligence. I don't really want to say anymore until we're done with that."

"Is it to do with the protest at Lester's clinic?"

"I don't want to rule anything out at this stage."

"If it is, Michelle, let it go. Let LAPD deal with it. We don't have to get involved."

"Okay. I'll look into it." Michelle hung up the phone and groaned. At the back of her head, she could just feel a headache start, weaving its treacherous fingers through her body, in addition to all of her other problems.

"Hello, old friend."

xxxXXXxxx

He was a cautious man. But then, men in his line of work rarely lived to grow old without being cautious.

He circled around the meeting point twice. Just to make sure there were no police or FBI following him or waiting for him. They were a complication and he didn't like complications.

His contact was waiting for him. Exactly on time, at exactly the right place. He liked precision, punctuality.

"This is the target."

He snapped the disk into a data pad and cycled through the pictures. "Is there anything else?"

"CTU may be involved."

A complication. He hated complications and let his anger show in his voice. "That will cost you extra. Another 500'000. In the same account."

"Okay. I'll arrange the transfer."

He put the data pad back into his pocket and walked away.

xxxXXXxxx

"How are you doing?"

"It's the midmorning show, right here on CSRFM. It's 1123 and lets head straight back into the music."

_O, baby blankets and baby shoes, baby slippers, baby spoons, walls of baby blue_

_Dream child in my head is a nightmare born in a borrowed bed_

_Now I know, lightning strikes again_

_It struck me once and it struck me dead_

_My folly grows inside of me_

_I eat for two, walk for two, breathe for two, now_

xxxXXXxxx

"She wants us to do what?"

Michelle sat back in her chair, watching Tony pace in front of her desk. "She wants us to back off the Rights of the Child. I get the feeling she's getting squeezed from above."

"From whom? Hammond?"

She chewed on her lip. "Maybe. I don't think so."

"What are we going to do?"

"Officially? We're going to back off. I just got Hammond off our backs, I don't want Natasha Grey replacing him."

"What about unofficially?"

"Unofficially, you run things as before. These bastards are involved, I know it."

"I know." Tony stopped in front of her desk, looking directly at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She looked around the room, searching out the corners, her old nervous habit. "Tony, I…."

Her phone rang, cutting her off. Angry at herself for hesitating, she hit the answer button. "What is it?"

"It's Ashley. She's made contact."

xxxXXXxxx

"Things will have to be changed." Tom felt that he had given them long enough to get their breath back, to recover and think about what had happened. And what could have happened. "That was a shambles and cannot be allowed to happen again."

Amy said nothing. Sitting in the corner of the car, pale faced, breathing heavily.

"Would you like some water?" Nathan handed her the bottle and she accepted gratefully, raising it to her lips, her hands still shaking.

Tom ignored her show of nerves. "It's too late to rearrange some of these. But things will have to be changed. No more walks through the crowd, no more handshaking sessions or photo ops."

"She's trying to run an election campaign."

"And I'm trying to keep her alive." Tom pointed out the back window, his finger moving angrily, like a small knife. "What happened there was chaos. There could have been anyone, anything in that crowd."

"What do we do?" Amy had regained some of her confidence, some of her colour.

Tom sighed. "We drive straight in and straight out of the rest of the engagements. Back door, minimal exposure to the public. And the fucking car stays within easy access."

"Okay." She wrapped her arms around herself. Lost in her memories, shivering.

She was frightened. Good. 

Tom glanced at Nathan and shook his head. It was proving to be a very long day.

xxxXXXxxx

"…blessing at lunch time. He's expecting me there. I don't have a lot of time."

"Has he made you?"

"No." A brief pause, just a hint of hesitation. "I don't think so."

Ashley's voice was soft, breathless, shaking. More than that, there was tangible amount of fear, thickening her tongue, sticking in her throat. They could almost imagine her, looking over her shoulder as she spoke.

"Is Jackson Alexander involved in this?" Tony made his voice as strong, as reassuring as he could. He glanced at Michelle as he spoke, his expression concerned, worried. They needed Ashley strong, in control. This was a bad time for her to start to crack.

Her life was at stake.

"He's hip deep in it, Tony. What do you want me to do?" Her voice faded away briefly, before coming back strongly. "…a lot of time."

Michelle leaned forward. "Ashley, it's Michelle."

"Yeah?'

"Do what you have to do to maintain your cover."

"Okay."

The phone line went dead.

xxxXXXxxx

"It's almost twelve pm, folks. We'll be back after this and your midday news, right here on CSRFM."

_Children in bloom, cooking in the sun_

_Waiting for a room of our own_

_Leave my sister alone, _

_She don't deserve this_

_She is a flower and I am a flower and _

_We are all alone…._


	6. Chapter Six

Lyrics in this chapter are taken from 'Angel' by Sarah McLachlan.

Thank you again to everybody that has read so far and a HUGE thank you to everybody that has reviewed. Feedback is always welcome.

**Chapter Six**

"Do whatever you have to maintain your cover."

Did Michelle know what she was asking her to do?

She fought to stop herself falling, walking falteringly down the street. In the back of her head, in the dark pit of her soul, she could still hear the shouts of the protesters, could still see the tears, winding their way down frightened, pale faces.

Ashley pressed her hands against her ears and picked up her pace, stumbling blindly away. Trying to get away from the images of what she had done, trying to blank out the images of what she had said, so many horrible things…

Thoughts of Jackson Alexander rose in her head. His deep dark eyes piercing her, penetrating her, down to her soul. Seeing the lies she had told, the sins she had committed, all of them in the name of her job and country. Denouncing her to the congregation as a sinner and a whore. And they turned away from her, all of them, everyone she had ever known, leaving her lost and alone.

She didn't think she could stand if they left her alone again. She didn't want to be alone.

They didn't know what they were asking her to do!

She walked on, strength bleeding from her legs with every step that she took. Forcing herself to stay upright. Forcing herself to take step after step. How could she do this? How could she go on, keep doing this? She wanted out.

They didn't know what they were asking her to do!

Her strength giving out, Ashley stumbled, sitting down before it disappeared completely. She sat down on the cool steps, closing her eyes, leaning her head back against the smooth wall. She just wanted a moment to herself, a moment to think, a moment to….

"Are you alright my child?" The man had a soft, Irish accent.

Ashley opened her eyes, peering through the slits. A priest stood in front of her, his thinning brown hair swept across his head by the gentle breeze. She scrambled quickly to her feet. "No Father. I mean, yes Father. I just wanted to sit down for a moment."

He stared at her, his eyes kindly but intent.

She did her best to smile, but it gradually faded under his scrutiny. She looked down at her feet. "I just needed some time to think, to work out what I'm going to do."

"There are better seats inside, my dear." He reached out and took her arm, leading her towards the door of the chapel. She resisted at first, then yielded, allowing him to lead her. "And maybe, you'll find your answers inside as well."

She followed him across the threshold, closing her eyes. Feeling peace, forgiveness, understanding wash across her.

xxxXXXxxx

_This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees_

_In the arms of an angel_

_Fly away from here_

_From this dark cold hotel room_

_And the endlessness that you fear_

_You are pulled from the wreckage_

_Of your silent reverie_

_You're in the arms of the angel_

_May you find some comfort there_

"That's such a beautiful song. I don't mind telling you, it sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it. It's 1212, here on CSRFM. I hope you're all having a good afternoon so far, and I'll be right back with more music, just after these messages."

xxxXXXxxx

Adam ran up the stairs to her office. "Michelle. We got a possible flag on the hit man." He slid the folder across the desk to her. "This guy."

She opened the folder, paging through the photographs. "Put an alert out at LAX and at the train stations. Tell them to treat the suspect as armed and extremely dangerous. They are to notify us as soon as they spot him and they are NOT to approach him."

"Okay."

Michelle hesitated, looking at his record, at the killings it was believed he had carried out. "This guy is a pro." She closed the file and pushed back to him. "Tell Tony about this and ask him to notify Tom and Nathan."

"Okay." Adam lifted the file and walked to the door of her office. He hesitated at the door, looking back at her.

"Something wrong Adam?"

"No, Michelle."

"We all have plenty of work to do. Let me know if we get any hits back from LAX or the trains."

Adam nodded and walked down the stairs and across to Tony's workstation. She couldn't help noticing, out of the corner of her eye, that Tony glanced up at her office as they talked, looking worried.

She bit her lip, forcing herself to keep working, not to look at him, to keep busy.

She didn't think about it if she was busy.

xxxXXXxxx

"Ladies and Gentlemen." The speaker paused, allowing the tension to grow, the atmosphere to build up just a little further. "Please allow me to introduce…Amy Gardner!"

Applause burst across the room as she walked onto the stage. She raised her hand to wave to the crowd, smiling at them over the top of the podium. Every inch the politician, she looked educated, sophisticated, poised. Controlled. Beautiful.

Only Tom, watching her closely from the back of the stage, could see how white her knuckles were as they gripped the side of the podium. He spoke quietly into the microphone. "Any sign of him down there?"

There was a momentary hesitation before Nathan responded, his voice swamped by the noise of the crowd. "Its all quiet down here. What about you guys?"

One by one their replies came back.

"Nothing."

"Nobody."

"That's if this guy is even in LA."

"Stay alert." Tom touched the receiver in his ear again, grinding his teeth in frustration at Peterson's attitude. Staring at the front of the crowd, caught and held by Amy's mere presence. "This guy's fucking good. If he is here, we wont get a second chance to stop him."

He watched her as she spoke, warming to her topic. Tom realised that not all of her tight grip on the podium was inspired by fear.

She was angry.

Angry at CTU, at the people who had made the threat against her, at Rights of the Child for what they were doing at Lester's Clinic, angry at them for every doctor they had killed, every clinic they had attacked, every girl they had intimidated.

The audience caught, fired up inspired by her passion.

Tom felt his own passion, his own anger fired by her words.

He wanted to get these bastards.

xxxXXXxxx

"CTU, O'Brien."

"Chloe, its Tony. I need you to start going through the plane and train manifests. I'm sending a photo to your station, we need to know if…"

"Cant Adam do it? I'm up to my eyes at the minute and I need to keep a channel open in case Ashley makes contact again and…"

"No he can't. He's already working on something for me. Just do it okay."

"Okay, Tony. Jeez, there's no need to bite my head off."

"Chloe…" He broke off, shaking his head. "Don't argue with me about it, just fucking do it. Send the results to my station." He hung up, looking up at Michelle's office again. He stared at her for a second, watching as she reached for the phone, watching frustration and tension spill across her face. Watching as she bit her lip so hard he was scared she'd draw blood.

What the hell was wrong with her?

xxxXXXxxx

Amy stepped back from the podium, raising her hands to the audience as they cheered her. She smiled broadly, her first genuine smile since Tom and Nathan had arrived at her campaign headquarters.

That had felt good.

She sensed Tom next to her, his hand on her elbow, trying to lead her towards the car, Peterson already walking towards the door, taking careful looks around him. She could see Nathan and her other guards coming towards her.

She couldn't resist, slipping away from Tom, rushing to the front of the stage to wave to the crowd, basking in their adulation.

She was still smiling as a glowering Tom Baker took her arm, leading her after Peterson towards the car, twisting in his grasp to wave one more time at the crowd, to smile at them one last time.

Perhaps she could live through this day.

xxxXXXxxx

Ashley bowed her head in prayer one last time, closing her eyes as the priest moved his hand in the air over her, muttering the prayer in Latin. Then she stood, walking out of the chapel, suppressing the doubts and guilt that had followed her in.

She could do this.

She walked out of the chapel, blinking in the sudden bright light, almost smiling in the sunshine. She walked away and didn't look back, walking quickly towards where the blessing would be held.

The Reverend Jackson Alexander was expecting her.

She could do this.

xxxXXXxxx

He watched as they hustled her out of the building and into the waiting car. Carefully guarding their backs and flanks, checking their angles of approach.

These guys were good.

He kept watching as the car pulled smoothly away from the curb. Then he rose into a crouch, keeping low against the early afternoon sun, tucking his binoculars back inside his suit pocket.

Complications were one thing, but this….

….this was a challenge.

He loved a challenge.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

"CTU, Almeida."

"Tony, I think I got something here."

"Send it to my screen, Chloe." Tony cycled through the security camera footage. "Shit. When was this taken? Where?"

"LA Central Station, a couple of hours ago." Chloe hesitated for a second. "It's him isn't it? He's here already, and we missed our chance to stop him before…"

Tony cut her off before her panic could seize control of her. "Chloe, calm down." He waited until she fell silent. "See if you can enhance the picture and send it over to Tom and Nathan."

"The picture quality's not going to be very good and I'm going to have to go through all the camera angles until I can find a better quality picture…."

"How long Chloe?"

"Fifteen, twenty minutes. Maybe a little longer to get a usable image."

"Just send it when you can, Chloe okay. Thank you." He broke the connection and dialled quickly.

"Gault."

"Nathan, its Tony…"

xxxXXXxxx

"…in LA."

"When?"

"He arrived at Central Station a couple of hours ago. I got Chloe working on it at the minute. We should have an image for you within the next thirty minutes or so."

"Okay." Nathan hung up, shaking his head. "Shit."

"He's in LA, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Security cameras picked him up in Central Station."

Tom nodded, his eyes hard and flat. Looking around the dim interior of the car. "This changes nothing Amy. We knew there was a threat against you anyway. All this does is confirm it."

Nathan nodded in agreement, trying to reassure her. "At least we know who we're dealing with."

xxxXXXxxx

She played the conversation through in her head again. Making sure that she knew what she was going to say, knew how she was going to play things. She opened her eyes, took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

She drummed her fingers on the desk while she listened to the phone ring. At least while she was talking to Natasha, she could put off talking to Tony for a little while longer.

"Natasha Grey's office, can I help you?"

"Michelle Dessler for Natasha Grey."

"One moment please."

She heard a couple of clicks, then Natasha's familiar voice. "Hello Michelle."

"Good afternoon, Natasha." Michelle forced a useless smile, grateful that at least she wouldn't have to lie to Natasha's face. Shouldn't CTU be above all that shit? Weren't they all supposed to be on the same side?

"I've spoken with Brad Hammond, Michelle. I think we've found some room in our budget."

"So I might actually be able to hire some more personnel down here?"

"Yeah. If you can put your proposals together and forward them to me, I'll put things in motion at this end. What about the investigation into the Rights of the Child?"

She slipped the question in, so quickly, so easily that Michelle almost missed it.

But she had her answer prepared and ready. "We ran down every lead. There's no connection between Rights of the Child and any known terrorist group."

She had to slip that word in, just for the sake of her own conscience.

"Thank you Michelle. If you get those proposals to me as soon as you can, I'll get things started at this end."

"Thanks Natasha." Michelle hung up, staring thoughtfully at the phone. Even down the phone line, there had been no mistaking the relief in Natasha's voice when she had learnt that the investigation had finished. Someone was putting pressure on her.

Natasha Grey was getting squeezed and not by Brad Hammond.

xxxXXXxxx

"Ashley, my dear." The kindly faced woman at the door smiled sadly at her, reaching out to take one of her hands between both of hers. "You'll be in all of our prayers tonight. It is a very brave thing that you're doing."

Ashley slid her hand out of the woman's grasp, managing to smile uncomfortably at her. "Is the Reverend here yet?" She peered past the woman, trying to see if she could find Jackson Alexander's bulky form.

"He is." The woman put her hand on the small of Ashley's back, guiding her into the room. "He's been expecting you." She smiled sadly at Ashley as she walked past her. "God bless you, child."

She heard the same prayer echoed by other voices, the sound breaking around her like a disconcerting wave.

The room was full.

She recognised some of them as people who had attended her prayer group, people who had been through the same thing as she 'had.' Many of them paused to smile at her, to stare at her, as if to fix her in their minds. Some of the ones she didn't recognise stared at her as well.

She shivered under their scrutiny, despite the sweat breaking on her forehead.

Did they know?

The Reverend Jackson Alexander appeared on the stage. A small swell of applause rippled through the crowd, gradually spreading through the entire room. Alexander stepped back from the lectern, spreading his arms wide, basking in their faith.

He would lead them to war.

He would lead them to victory.

Jackson Alexander stepped back to the microphone, accompanied by a shrill blast of feedback. Instantly, silence fell. He looked around swiftly, then bowed his head in prayer, the movement copied by everyone around Ashley. Hastily she bowed her head, peering up through half closed eye lids as his rich dark voice began the prayer, rolling across the room

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God…."

xxxXXXxxx

"Good afternoon, folks, its just coming up to 130pm. It's another beautiful day outside and temperatures are expected to soar later in the week. So it's only gonna get hotter."

I'll be right back after these messages, with a classic track and news of huge gig that's gonna be taking place right here in LA. So keep it locked onto CSRFM."

xxxXXXxxx

"…said that the intel failed to turn up any leads." Natasha became aware that she was babbling and forced herself to stop, to think. She couldn't afford to allow herself to seem to be too vulnerable, too weak. Otherwise she would be useless to Michael Jarode.

"That's good news, Natasha. Thank you."

"I'm glad that I could finally help you, Mr Jarode."

"I do not forget my friends or my allies, Natasha. I'm hoping that you and Michelle Dessler will continue to extend me the same courtesy."

xxxXXXxxx

"I just wanted to wish you all the best, Amy." He smiled, clutching her hand tightly, despite her best efforts to pull away. "You're just what we need in the Senate."

"Thank you, sir." Amy smiled back at him, finally managing to slip her hand free. "I hope I can rely on you and your support to get me there." She laughed and after a moments hesitation, the man laughed along with her. "Good to see you, thank you for coming."

She walked away, instantly conscious of Nathan at her elbow. She glanced over her shoulder, at his grim face. "You okay?"

His mouth twitched, almost drawn into a smile. "I think I'm supposed to be asking you that question."

She stiffened, suddenly aware of the press of people around her, mindful of what had happened earlier. She took a step closer to him. "Is he here?"

"I don't know."

xxxXXXxxx

He was getting closer.

Tom could feel him. Feel his eyes, searching for Amy, searching for a weakness, for a way to get to her. He wished he had cancelled this as well, she was too exposed, too vulnerable. A lunch like this could hide a killer as easily as an early morning walk about. But Peterson had argued….

He looked up, almost certain he would see her fall, her body riddled with bullets, another notch on this bastard's gun.

Nathan was with her, his eyes searching the crowd, keeping his body between her and any danger that might be out there

Tom took a deep breath, forcing air into lungs that had been starved of oxygen. Forcing himself to calm down, to think. He was no good to CTU, to Nathan, or to Amy if he was panicking. That was how this bastard worked, getting everybody so tense, so tied in knots that they made a mistake, and let him in.

There would be no mistake.

Tom stared at the picture on the PDA and started another circuit of the room.

xxxXXXxxx

These guys were good.

He laughed uproariously at an unfunny joke, staring across the room at Amy Gardner. One man with her at all times, the others circling the room.

A break from their usual tactics.

They were looking for him. This was starting to turn from a challenge into a complication.

He thought briefly about doing her, there and then. He could probably escape in the confusion. But there was that…element of doubt, of danger in that plan. Her guards were expecting him, expecting him to try something like that.

He slipped away from the conversation, disappearing like a grey ghost.

He knew what he was going to do. All he needed was time to prepare.

xxxXXXxxx

He stopped on the mezzanine floor and knocked on her door.

"Come in Tony."

He walked into Michelle's office, taking care to shut the door after him.

"What's wrong?"

He laughed softly, bitterly. "What's wrong? I want to know what's wrong with you, Michelle. You've been distracted all day, and I know you've been sick at least once."

Michelle looked away from him. "I told you I'm okay. I just had the squid last night, and you know how it always makes me feel…"

"I know you didn't have squid last night." Tony walked around the desk, forcing her to look at him. "So what's going on?"

Caught. At last. She felt strangely relieved.

"I'm pregnant, Tony."

xxxXXXxxx

She felt the crowd press in around them, their shouts and insults ringing in her ears. His arm around her, sheltering her from the worst of their missiles.

Pieces of rotten fruit landed on her face, the remnants of a missile that had landed on his shoulder.

Then the doors of the clinic slammed shut behind them, cutting them off from the noise and chaos outside. A nurse came forward, putting an arm around her shoulders, helping her to a seat.

They were inside the clinic.

Now what?


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

"This is the CSRFM News at 2pm, I'm Diane Hylands."

"Reports are coming in of violent clashes between police and protestors outside the Lester Clinic. Eyewitnesses say the trouble flared out of nowhere, with bricks and other missiles hurled at a couple arriving at the clinic. A police spokesman he suspected that there was a racial motive to the attack on the couple, who were mixed race, and called on Rights of the Child to denounce the racial assault."

A spokesman for the organisation refused to condemn the attack, saying that the judgement of God would fall on the murderers of children."

"Three protesters and four police officers were hurt in the disturbance, which was the third serious incident at the clinic. A number of arrests were also made."

"In other news, the game at Pasadena's Rose Bowl between the Huskers and the Schooners is now sold out. College football fans have quickly snapped up all the available tickets, promising a red hot atmosphere when these two old rivals clash in the Rose Bowl decider."

"Its 205pm, I'll be back with more news at three."

xxxXXXxxx

He felt the strength drain from his legs, her office spinning around him. He groped blindly for the couch. "You're what?"

"I'm pregnant." It felt good to say it again. Made it real, made it a little easier to deal with.

"When?" He ran his hand across his face. It had suddenly gotten so hot in her office. "How long have you known?"

"Just since this morning." She tried to smile, hesitant, unsure, insecure. "What do you think?"

"I'm…you're…." He grinned suddenly, brightly, his face stripped of the lines of worry and doubt, suddenly boyish. "You're going to have a baby? We're going to be parents?"

"That's usually what it means." Her smile died and she bit nervously at her lip. "Are you happy about this Tony?"

"Happy?" He sprang to his feet, leaning across the desk, kissing her, not caring that she hadn't darkened the windows, that all of CTU could see him kissing his wife. "Of course I'm happy about it! How could I not be?"

"It's just….that things have been difficult…"

"I know, I know." He kissed her again. "But this is different Michelle. This isn't about CTU or Jack or….any of that shit. This is about you and me." He laughed briefly, and nodded at her stomach. "And junior, obviously. You understand me? Just us."

She nodded.

It was never going to be like that, never going to be that easy. But just for a moment, Michelle Dessler allowed herself to dream of a beautiful life with her husband and child.

xxxXXXxxx

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" The nurse knelt next to the chair she was sitting in, clutching a clipboard in her hands.

Her throat dry, she managed to nod. She could sense him looming behind her, an avenging angel.

The nurse made a note on the clipboard. "I need your name sweetheart. Just for our records."

She swallowed hard, trying to make her throat work. "Ashley."

"Well, Ashley, if you just want to wait here. Dr Lester will be with you shortly." She reached out and squeezed Ashley's hand. "Do you have any questions? It's not too late to change your mind. I know it's a very big decision and no one will think any less of you if you have changed your mind."

"She hasn't changed her mind nurse."

The nurse glanced up angrily at Jackson Alexander, then swallowed her words, looking hastily down at her clip board. She made another quick note. "I'll just pass this on to Dr Lester. Excuse me for a moment, please Ashley."

"Okay." She closed her eyes. Trying to think her way through this. Trying to formulate a plan. Even with her eyes closed, she could still sense him. Could hear his deep even breathing. Calm. In control.

"Not long now, Ashley."

Eyes still closed, she nodded. What the hell was she going to do? She had to slow things down, had to give CTU a chance to….

Inspiration struck her quickly.

"I want to talk to my father." She allowed a tear to slide down her cheek. "Just to…"

xxxXXXxxx

They had made their mistake.

Just one man left with the car. He had been easy to dispose of, quickly, silently, efficiently. Leaving him plenty of time to finish his task.

He worked quickly, carefully.

Crouching, working at the side she had exited. Glancing occasionally over his shoulder. According to her schedule, he should have plenty of time to finish this without rushing, but why invite complications?

He normally didn't use methods like this. They were too cold, too crude, too imprecise.

Too impersonal.

Normally he preferred to deal with his prey face to face. Easier to slip away, to maintain his reputation.

There. Finished.

He straightened, wiping his hand fastidiously on a handkerchief, tucking it into his trouser pocket, examining the car critically. Not his best work, but it would have to do.

He took another look around and walked away, past a carefully hidden body.

xxxXXXxxx

"Hello, newsroom, can I help you?"

Silence. Just a steady, even breathing.

She sighed heavily. "Hello?"

"It is today."

"What is?"

"The Child has been neglected too long, their rights forgotten, ignored by the demands of their sinful parents. Today we reassert the rights of the child. Today we speak for countless children, whose blood stains the hands of murderers like Dr Lester."

"Sir…"

The phone line went dead.

She sighed again, rubbing wearily at her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "Jim? You better come take a listen to this. I think we just got a warning."

xxxXXXxxx

"Listen, we've had a few people calling in, looking for Rose Bowl tickets. I'm sorry, people, they're all gone, you're too late, too bad, you aren't going to the big Huskers-Schooners game.

Except that I have managed to get my hands on four pairs of tickets for the big game, and I'll be giving those away in the next hour. So stay by your radios for the chance to win those tickets."

"So keep it tuned to CSRFM, it's 245pm."

xxxXXXxxx

Nathan leaned over her shoulder, speaking directly into her ear. "Time to go Amy."

She nodded, still smiling. Forcing herself to swallow another mouthful of food. She'd only picked at the lunch, made a show of eating food that turned to dust and ash in her mouth. Her smile twisted. Judging by the appetites of the people around her, she was the only one struggling to eat.

Delicately, she wiped her mouth and stood up. Almost instantly, the room fell silent, every eye focused on her.

She wondered if he was watching her as well.

She cleared her throat. "I would just like to thank you all fro attending. I greatly appreciate this display of support, especially as the campaign enters its most critical phase. So thank you all very much."

A brief round of applause interrupted her, and she waited patiently for silence to fall again. Conscious of Nathan, checking his watch, impatience written clearly across his features.

"Unfortunately, I am going to have to leave you for today." She raised her voice, throwing it to the back of the room, dragging everyone into the speech, infusing them with her words. "But I promise you, I will see you in a month or so and we will be celebrating all night long! Thank you all so much."

She stepped back, smiling, as chairs were scrapped back, the room exploding into applause.

She stepped up to Nathan's side, her face still flushed with excitement.

"Ready to go, Tom."

"Copy that Nathan."

xxxXXXxxx

"This was phoned into a Los Angeles news room about fifteen minutes ago." Michelle pressed play, and the harsh, distorted words of the threat filled the room.

"So there is a direct threat against the clinic?"

"Looks like it." Michelle leaned forward, covering her mouth as she fought off a wave of nausea. She felt Tony slip his hand into hers, hidden beneath the table, linking his fingers through hers. She held on for as long as she dared.

She wasn't ready for CTU to know yet.

Hastily she gathered her thoughts. "Chloe I want a full spectrum analysis of the recording. I want where it originated, who the caller is, whatever you can give me."

"Got it Michelle."

"Adam, keeping working on the hitman. I need something that links him to Rights of…"

A phone in Tony's pocket rang suddenly. He lifted it out. "It's Ashley."

"Put it on speaker." Michelle gestured at Adam. "Get a trace started."

Tony slid the phone into the holder and pressed the answer button. "Hello sweetheart."

"Something awful's gonna happen."

"Where are you? Your mother and I just want to talk to you."

"Lesters clinic."

xxxXXXxxx

Mike Peterson walked out into the sunlight. He turned quickly, checking their angles, checking for blind spots. "All clear." He put his shades on and walked towards the car.

Amy Gardner followed, keeping pace between Nathan Gault and one of Peterson's men.

"We're just leaving the lunch now." Tom Baker stepped out of the building, blinking rapidly. He shielded his eyes against the harsh light. "Where's Sykes? Nathan, do you know where Sykes is?"

"I don't know. Isn't he…." Nathan tugged his pistol out of its holster. "Stay behind me Amy." Hastily, her other guard pulled his own weapon out, looking around him. "Tom, do you see…"

"Wait, Mike no!"

Tom's voice, broken, infected with panic.

The car exploded, bright, hot and angry beneath the afternoon sun.


	9. Chapter Nine

Hey, thanks again to everybody that has read and reviewed so far. I've really appreciated your feedback so far.

Once again, I don't know the scale that Americans use for temperature.

**Chapter Nine**

Amy stared at the aftermath of the explosion, feeling it burn into her memory. Mike, stretching out his hand, that split second of horrified, terrible silence, just after Tom's shout. She slipped around her guard, darting forward. Mike could still be alive.

Nathan caught her arm, jerking her backwards, away from the flaming wreckage. "Where are you going?"

"Mike…" She coughed, the smoke searing her throat, bringing tears to her eyes. "He could still be alive…"

He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry Amy. He was standing too close to it. He wouldn't have had a chance."

"Get her back inside, Nathan." Tom walked past them, as Nathan led Amy back into the building, trying to shield her as best he could, the wave of heat radiating from the ruined car. He pulled his phone out, dialling rapidly, still scanning the area. Was he still there? Watching the results of his handiwork?

"CTU O'Brien."

"Chloe, its Tom. Amy's car has just exploded. I need a forensic team down here as soon as you can." He looked at the wreckage, spitting, trying to get the taste of burning oil out of his mouth. "What a fucking mess."

"Was it…"

"I think so Chloe. I wont know for sure until the forensic team goes through the wreckage. How long until the team gets here?"

"Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes. I'll need to run through the protocols."

"Put me through to Michelle."

xxxXXXxxx

"Dammit!"

He made sure he had kept low as the explosion ripped through the car. He had been careful when he had chosen his vantage point. Close enough to see, far enough away to be out of danger.

He hadn't expected the bodyguard to open the door, hadn't expected her to be out of range. Careless.

He watched the CTU agents move Gardner back into the building, watched one of them move closer, examining the wreckage. He could see the agent talking on his phone and wished he was close enough to hear.

Now what the fuck was he going to do?

He continued to watch through the binoculars, his mind spinning, considering, thinking, rejecting plans. Slowly he smiled, his thin lips pulling back from clean even teeth in a parody of a grin.

His trap may have failed, but they had only one place left to run.

xxxXXXxxx

She could still feel it. Twisting, writhing inside her. Threatening to burst out of her

With an effort of will, she forced the nausea down, forcing it back under her control.

"I want a forensic team at Tom's location as soon as possible." She stopped next to a desk. "Send another vehicle to the location as well. Nathan's bringing Amy Gardner back to CTU and I want them here as soon as possible."

"Yes ma'am."

"Adam, what's the status at the Clinic?"

He leaned back in his chair, highlighting a series of images. "Local TV cameras picked this up at about two pm." He highlighted one particular image, enhancing a familiar face. "Ashley. I think that's Jackson Alexander with her."

"What's the temperature today?"

"High thirties." Adam frowned. "Pretty damned warm, anyway."

"So why is Jackson Alexander wrapped up so well. Why is he wearing such a heavy coat?" She turned quickly on her heel. "Tony? Take a team down to Lester's Clinic. I want Jackson Alexander in custody."

"What about Ashley's cover?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. It's getting too hot for her. I want her out of there."

"On my way."

xxxXXXxxx

"I believe, firmly, that girls and young women who find themselves in that situation should be properly advised of all their options. They should be reminded that a child is a blessing from God, not a curse."

"Every effort should be made to persuade these women that they have other options, that they do not have to sacrifice their unborn children because of society's perceptions, that this step should be the last one taken, and should only be considered after all other options have been considered and rejected."

"I would question the morality, the humanity, not just of those people who provide a service like this, but also those politicians who would support them, protect them and condone the murder of unborn children."

"I would appeal to the people of California to remember this when the time comes to cast their votes. I would ask them to remember the expressions on those poor girls' faces as they are lead into those vile places. I would ask them to look within their souls, to ask the Lord God for guidance when the time comes to make your choice."

"I pray to God that the people of California make the right decision."

'Senator Michael Jarode, speaking earlier today.'

xxxXXXxxx

Tom stood at the door of the building, squinting against the afternoon sun. Two black cars, the windows tinted against the sun, swept into the street, sweeping through the crowds that had gathered to watch the burning wreckage.

"Forensic teams are here Nathan."

"Okay."

"I want you to take Amy back to CTU."

His words seemed to sink through the fog surrounding Amy. "What? No, you cant! I have commitments, meetings. We agreed that I didn't have to change my schedule."

"That was before your car blew up." Tom didn't look around, watching as the leader of the forensic team walked over towards him. He stepped out of meet him, shielding his eyes . Damn sun, just in the wrong place….

There. He had watched from there.

"Agent Matthews, forensics. Where do you want us?"

Tom nodded at the wreckage. "I want that car torn apart. I want to know if it was tampered with, and if that was what caused the explosion. I've got a body I want you to look at as well."

"Okay, sir."

"You got keys? Give them to me." Tom took Agent Matthews keys and tossed them to Nathan. "Take her back to CTU."

Nathan nodded, starting to lead her towards the car. Amy resisted, pulling against Nathan's grip. "Agent Baker, I don't think…"

"It's not your decision, Amy." Tom adjusted his jacket, walking after Agent Matthews. "It's mine. Get her out of here, Nathan." He glanced up again, trying to peer through the sun.

Are you still there, you bastard?

xxxXXXxxx

The walls of Clinics were starting to close in around her.

She could hear him pacing steadily around the Clinic. Walking with slow, even steps. His shoes echoing off the smooth floor. She could hear the chants coming from the outside, the walls seeming to vibrate, struggling to cope with the force of their anger and hatred.

Step by even step. Tugging at the zip of his jacket. Step. By. Step.

"I cant do this."

Jackson Alexander stopped, almost in mid stride. "What did you say?"

Ashley forced herself to stand, stumbling on unsteady legs. "I cant do this." She started to walk away from him. "I cant do this."

"Sit down."

"No!"

"Ashley…" His voice was low and threatening. She heard a pistol cock and she froze, her shoulders tensing. "Everybody stays." He waved the pistol towards the wall and she sat down, unwillingly. He unzipped his jacket. "Until we all go to face the Lord our God."

He had a bomb strapped to his chest.

xxxXXXxxx

"I want two of you around the back. Secure all the exits. Nobody goes in or out without my authorisation."

"Understood." The SWAT leader signalled to two of his troops and they darted around the back of the building, dark clothed shadows cutting through the angry crowd.

Tony walked towards the main door of the Clinic, ignoring the angry murmurs of the crowd. He dialled as he walked.

"CTU, O'Brien."

"Chloe, its Tony, I'm on site at the Lester…"

A gunshot rang out, loud despite the noise of the crowd. Instinctively Tony ducked for cover, scrambling away. The crowd, momentarily silent, scattered, ducking, running. Screaming.

Tony could hear Chloe, her voice shrieking from the speaker of the phone. He brought the phone up to his ear. "…going on Tony?"

"Shots fired at the Lester Clinic."

xxxXXXxxx

He pulled the car into the parking lot. "Amy? We're here."

She stirred. Despite the weariness that had settled across her, soaking into her bones, she was scared to close her eyes. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Michael, frozen in time, his hand….

"Where are we?"

"Back at CTU." Nathan got out of the car. "Stay there. I'll come around there and get you." He walked around the car, looking around carefully. His eyes, hidden behind sunglasses.

He opened the passenger door, reaching out a hand to help her out of the car.

She heard a short, sharp sound….

…Nathan staggered forward, his face pale, pressing her back into the car….

…blood seeping from underneath his jacket.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

"Control, we have shots fired in the South Parking Lot. Request immediate back up."

"Copy that."

He pulled his pistol out and darted out into the parking lot. Expecting at any moment to feel a slash of searing hot pain, a pullet ripping through him. He reached the front row of parked cars and ducked low, beneath the line of windows.

Trying to stay out of the sniper's line of sight, he kept low and ran along the row of cars. All he could hear was his own harsh, uneven breathing.

He reached the end of the row and cautiously raised his head. He could see the passenger door of the CTU car, lying open, see the body sprawled across the seat.

"Please God help!"

He took a deep breath and ran from cover. His shoulders tensed, knees almost scrapping against the rough tarmac, scrambling across the open ground. Tripping, stumbling, almost falling, the safety of the next row of cars tantalisingly within reach.

And then he was back in cover, wiping sweat of his forehead. He closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing. Ready for his next run.

xxxXXXxxx

He stood over the body of the nurse, his pistol still smoking. She lay on the clinic floor, her white shirt saturated with her own blood, a shocked expression on her face.

"What the hell have you done?"

"Shut up, Ashley." Jackson Alexander shrugged off his jacket, covering her body with it and walked away from the body, the harness holding the bomb strapped across his heavy chest creaking with every movement.

A door opened and a slight, balding, bespectacled man walked out. "What's going…"

He fell silent as Jackson Alexander pointed the gun at him. "Are you Dr Lester?"

Pale faced, the man nodded, raising his hands into the air.

Alexander gestured with the pistol. "Get over there." Dr Lester walked past him, his eyes flicking to the slumped corpse of his nurse. "Get on your knees, put your hands behind your head."

His eyes wide, Lester slumped to his knees. Staring widely at Ashley, at the door, desperately seeking escape.

"How many children have you murdered?"

"I'm not a murderer!"

Jackson Alexander laughed bitterly. "Of course you're not." He grabbed Lester by the throat, tilting his head back against the barrel of the pistol, forcing him to look up at Ashley. "You killed her child, ripped it bleeding from her womb."

Lester swallowed, his throat bobbing against Jackson's grasp. "I've never seen her before."

xxxXXXxxx

His body pressed against her, bearing down on her. His weight heavy across her, trapping her. She could feel his blood, soaking into his jacket, damp against her clothes.

Amy tried to struggle. Trying to force Nathan off her. "Please Nathan, please. Help me!" She raised her voice. "Please God, somebody help me!"

Her voice echoing desperately around the car park.

No one answered.

Nearly crying in frustration, the smell of Nathan's sweat and blood clogging up her nostrils, Amy coiled her limps underneath his torso, trying to lever his dead weight off her.

Then she froze, a sudden fear driving all the other thoughts out of her head. What if someone could see her moving? What if her movement, her struggles were attracting attention?

What if he was still out there, just waiting for a clear shot at her?

Amy stopped struggling, letting Nathan's body settle back across her (was he still breathing? Was he still alive? She tried to check for a pulse, tried to listen for the sound of him breathing, but all she could hear was the sound of her own increasingly paniced breathing.)

She could feel her clothes getting damper with his blood.

xxxXXXxxx

"What's going on back there?"

"We got a situation inside the Clinic. Jackson Alexander has hostages."

"Damnit!" Tony risked a glance from cover. "I can see Ashley, but I cant see Alexander. Do you have a clear shot at him?"

"Negative."

"Have you a way in at the back?"

"Neg…son of a bitch!"

"What?" Tony reached up, trying the window. He grimaced, finding it locked.

"Jackson Alexander has a bomb strapped across his chest. I repeat, Jackson Alexander has a bomb strapped to his chest."

"Shit. Anyway we can take him out before he detonates that bomb?"

"I don't know. I cant see the trigger. It could be a decoy."

"We cant take that chance. Hold your positions until you hear from me." He ran his hand across his face worriedly. He didn't want this, not today of all days. He just wanted to go home, hold Michelle, argue with her about baby names or about what colour they should paint the nursery.

He forced the thoughts out of his head. He had a job to do.

How the hell were they going to get in there?

xxxXXXxxx

"We got shots fired in the parking lot!"

"Do we know where the shots came form?"

"Just working through the camera feeds now." Adam worked quickly, the footage blurring across his screen. "Should have an answer for you in a couple of minutes."

"Okay. Get a security team out to Nathan and Amy. Get them back into the building. Notify medical, let them know we might have casualties."

"Michelle." Adam called her over to his screen. "Shot came from the multi storey, here. See?" They watched in silence, as Nathan stumbled and fell. "What do you want to do?"

"Michelle, I got Tom on the phone for you."

"Put him through to Adam's station." She looked back at the screen. "Dispatch a team, close off the exits. Nobody in or out." The phone started to ring and she snatched it up. "Tom. What have you got?"

"Amy's car was tampered with. Crude device, but effective. She was damn lucky she didn't open the door. He got one of her people as well. Three shots, close range, probably with a silencer."

"Where are you?"

"I'm on my way back to CTU. Are Nathan and Amy there yet?"

"Nathan's been shot, Tom."

xxxXXXxxx

He watched them through the sniper scope. Watched the CTU agent be lifted off her, collapsing onto a nearby trolley. Watched them help her to her feet, her clothes covered with blood.

He wondered, briefly, if the man was still alive, then pushed the thought out of his head.

He took careful aim at her and squeezed the trigger.

xxxXXXxxx

She stumbled slightly as she stood, her legs too weak to support her weight, too unsteady to move. A guard reached out his hand, steadying her, standing between her and Nathan's body. She wondered if he was still alive.

"This way ma'am. Quickly please. We think the shooter might still be there."

Amy started to follow after him, when something caught her eye. Glinting in the sunlight. Nathan's sunglasses. They must have been knocked off his face when he had been….

He'd want them later. She would give them to him later, when she thanked him for saving her life.

She knelt suddenly, reaching out for his sunglasses. Her fingers had just touched the thin cool metal when she felt something burn across her shoulder, searing into her flesh.

She stumbled, dimly aware that her shoulder was in agony, that her suit jacket was suddenly damp with her own blood. Aware of the CTU guards, pressing around her and Nathan, rushing them towards the building.

Shielding them from him.

xxxXXXxxx

"I trusted you Ashley."

His voice, actually shaking with emotion, wavering on the edge of tears, shaking with anger and betrayal.

The pistol in his hand never wavered. Still aimed at the back of Dr Lester's head.

"I trusted you and you betrayed me. You betrayed us all. How could you?"

"I had to do it, Jackson." She kept her voice low and even, assured, throwing away her cover. If she had to die, she would die as herself. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Abruptly, Jackson brought the handle of the pistol down on the back of Lester's head. Stepping over his unconscious body before it had even touched the ground. He stalked over to her, pointing the gun at her face. "Open your mouth."

Reluctantly, she opened her mouth and he shoved the gun in. She gagged, briefly, tasting metal and smoke.

"I take you in, after you murder your child, and **_this_** is how you repay me?"

xxxXXXxxx

"What's the situation Chloe?"

"We think he's in…."

Tom cut her off. "I meant with Nathan."

"Tom." He looked around and saw Michelle, standing at Adam's station. He walked quickly over to her, opening his mouth to speak. She answered him before he could ask the question. "He's in medical at the minute. I've contacted his girlfriend. She's coming in." She looked steadily at him. "We still have a job to do, Tom. I need you on this."

"Okay." Tom ran his hand through his hair, across his face. "Okay. What's the situation with the shooter?"

"He's in the multi storey across the road. I sealed all the exits after the shootings. Nobody's gone in or out. He's still in there."

xxxXXXxxx

He could see them coming, moving around the exits. They were making no move to come after him. Not yet. They would wait, do it systematically, make sure there were no gaps for him to slip through.

They wouldn't have him without a fight.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Hey, I think there's only a couple of chapters left in this story. Thank you so much to everybody that has read and reviewed so far, especially Kita, who's reviewed every chapter so far! If you're still reading, drop me a review and let me know what you think. I accept anonymous reviews.

Song lyrics in this chapter are from Bob Dylan Knocking On Heavens Door.

On the CD player at the moment are Eric Clapton's Sessions for Robert J and Kathleen Edwards Back To Me

**Chapter Eleven**

"Would you like some water?"

Amy nodded, her mouth painfully dry. She could still feel the burning rush across her shoulder where the bullet had clipped her. If she hadn't seen his sunglasses, hadn't bent down to pick them up, his shot would have taken her dead in the forehead.

That was bullshit. If Nathan Gault hadn't been between her and the first shot, she would have already been dead.

Michelle Dessler poured her a tall glass of water and sat back down behind her desk. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"He opened the door for me and I heard a sharp noise. Then he…how's he doing?" Angry at herself for taking so long to ask after him. She still clutched his sunglasses in her right hand, numb with pain and anaesthetic.

"He's in medical at the moment. I'll go see how he is when we're done here, and I'll have someone tell you how he is." Michelle switched abruptly back to her professional mode. "Did you see where the shot came from? Either one?"

Amy thought for a second and then shook her head.

"Anything that might help narrow down the sniper's position?"

Amy shook her head again. "I'm sorry Ms Dessler. I really don't know anything. I'm sorry."

"That's okay." Michelle signalled and a guard pushed the door open and walked into her office. "I'm going to have to ask you to remain within CTU for your own safety, until we have the sniper in custody." She nodded at the guard. "Lawson will take you to a room where you can be comfortable."

"Thank you, Ms Dessler." Amy stood, staggering a little before she forced herself to regain her balance. She followed after the guard, closing the door behind them.

Michelle dialled quickly, drumming her fingers impatiently on the desk.

"Baker."

"It's me, Tom. She couldn't give me anything more. You're going to have to do this the hard way. Floor by floor."

xxxXXXxxx

Tom looked around the Delta teams and raised his voice. "Alright listen up!"

Instantly, the ground floor of the parking lot fell silent. Waiting for his orders.

"I want two men on every exit. Nobody leaves without my express authorisation. The rest of you, I want a hard search of the entire location. Systematic. Floor by floor. Stay in your teams and keep in radio contact. Understand?"

The teams around him nodded, their faces hard and grim. They all knew what had happened to Nathan. They all wanted revenge.

"The suspect is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. The Director wants him alive." Tom shrugged. "I, on the other hand, don't give a fuck. You all know what he did to Nathan. If he resists, do what you have to do. I want this bastard out of play."

"Understood."

"Sir, the teams are in position. They're waiting for your orders."

"Good." He looked around the teams again. "Stay in contact, and hold your positions. I don't want to give him any gaps to slip through." He adjusted his earpiece. "Keep Channel Four open for communications with CTU. Can you hear me Chloe?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Move out."

xxxXXXxxx

"Lift him, on my count. One, two, three."

Gently, carefully, they lifted him onto the table. Quickly crowding around him, stripping away bloodstained clothing with gloved professional hands.

"Jesus, what a mess!"

"Give him two units of type specific. He's lost a lot of blood." He pulled away the front of the ruined jacket. "No exit wound. The bullet must still be inside him."

The nurse laid a hand against the side of his neck. "Weak pulse."

"Shit. It must have clipped…"

His words were cut off by the shrill whine of the heart monitor.

"Charge to 200. Clear."

Electricity coursed through his body, making it jerk and dance on the harsh uncomfortable pallet.

"Charging to…"

"Wait." The monitor resumed its normal, steady rhythm. "We need to get that damn bullet out of him. Prep him for surgery."

"Doctor, the Director's here. She wants to know how he's doing."

He looked up to see Michelle Dessler. Hovering nervously on the other side of the security glass. Staring at the activity around the table. Around one of her people.

"Tell her we're doing everything we can."

xxxXXXxxx

"Welcome back to CSRFM. It's just after 520pm. It's great to have your company for the afternoon drive. Thanks to David Morrison, playing some great music all the way up to 5pm."

"So, anything really get to you today? Boss picking on you? Bad driving? An argument with someone you love? Drop me a line, share the frustration with the rest of us! I guarantee you feel better afterwards."

"I'll take the first of your Why Today Sucked calls, straight after this classic from Bob Dylan."

_"Mama, take this badge of me_

_I can't wear it anymore_

_It's getting dark, too dark to see_

_Feel like I'm knocking on Heaven's door_

_Knock knock knocking on Heaven's door"_

xxxXXXxxx

"Here they come."

He'd already hidden the rifle. Carelessly, hoping to use it as a distraction, to make it easier for him to slip away. Hoping to make them lower their guards.

At least that was the plan.

He peered down between the floors, and then slipped away, keeping his movements nice and slow, his breathing even. He could still slip away from this, leave with his skin, if not all of his reputation, intact.

He faded between rows of parked cars, holding his suit jacket closed, the shadows falling across him, welcoming him home like a long lost lover.

He grinned, suddenly, viciously, his teeth bright in the dim light.

Let them come.

xxxXXXxxx

She had been certain that he had meant to kill her.

She had knelt there, his gun in her mouth, her eyes open. Watching his hand tremble, his finger tightening on the trigger. Watching his face, seeing clearly how much he wanted to shoot her.

Then Lester had groaned and he had pulled the gun out of her mouth. She couldn't stop herself sagging in relief. He had ordered her to sit behind Lester, binding them together with lengths of rope.

She had tensed her shoulders as much as she could, relaxing after the rope had started to cut into her wrists. Forty minutes, give or take. She had been sitting here forty minutes. Her shoulders and arms were starting to ache with the strain.

Ashley watched him pace around the clinic, checking rooms. She wondered if anybody at CTU knew she was there.

He knelt in front of her, pushing the gun against her forehead. She could smell the dynamite, contrasting with the smell of his sweat. "Who are you working for?"

She shook her head, trying to look away. His hand shot out, holding her head still, forcing her to look at him. "What agency do you work for?"

"Go to hell Jackson!"

"There is still a chance to save your soul, Ashley. Just tell me who you work for."

His phone rang suddenly, startling them both. He held her gaze and her face for an instant. Then he released her, walking away from her to answer his phone. Ashley shook her head, shaking beads of sweat away from her forehead, straining and relaxing her arms.

Lester felt her moving behind him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ashley didn't take her eyes off Jackson Alexander. "Shut up."

xxxXXXxxx

"First thing he's gonna do is execute the hostages and that means he's gonna kill Ashley."

"Don't you think I know that?" Tony risked another look through the window of the Clinic. "I've just lost sight of Alexander. Any of you have a visual on him?"

"Yeah we got him." Tony could hear the wry humour in the other man's voice. "Son of a bitch is on the phone."

Tony risked another look, his eyes hurriedly scanning the corridors of the Clinic. It was eerily quiet outside now, the crowds moved back a safe distance. He could see Ashley, tied to another man. Could see her move her shoulders and arms, keeping a careful eye on Jackson Alexander.

Strain and release.

He could see the ropes binding her ease and loosen around her.

"Ashley's up to something." He fell back hurriedly against the wall as Jackson Alexander paced back into his line of sight. "We just have to give her sometime to pull it off."

"Copy that."

They just had to give her some time. Be ready for whatever she came up with, figure out some way to fit in with the whatever plan she came up with.

He leaned back against the wall, feeling it cold against his sweat dampened shirt. Leaning his head back against it, running his hand across his face.

He wondered if Michelle liked the name Jessica.

xxxXXXxxx

"Yes sir, I'm well aware of the problem Yes I know you briefed me about the situation earlier."

She listened carefully as the car drove through the streets of LA.

"I'm on my way to CTU now, sir. I'll take care of the situation when I get there."

**End of Chapter Eleven.**

So, maybe two chapters to go…let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter Twelve

I think this is the penultimate chapter….

**Chapter Twelve**

Tom walked through the parking lot, listening to the field teams reporting in.

"This is Delta One. Ground floor, north section clear. No sign of the target."

"Delta Two, ground floor, east section, clear."

"Delta Three, ground floor, south section, clear."

"Delta Four, ground floor, west section, clear."

He touched his microphone. "Copy that. Ground floor clear. Move up to the first floor, stick to the same search pattern." He switched channels quickly. "Chloe, we're moving to the first floor."

"Copy that, Tom."

These places were always so damn cold, so soulless, temporary. He shivered as he walked, despite the weight of his jacket, pressing down on him, despite the sweat he could feel breaking on his forehead.

He ignored it, not bothering to wipe it away as he climbed the ramp to the first floor of the parking lot. He couldn't afford the distraction, not with this ruthless bastard about.

He was getting closer. Closing of his hiding places with every floor they searched.

"Delta One, first floor, north section, clear."

"Copy that, hold your position. Report, Delta Two"

"This is Delta Two, first floor, east section, clear."

He was getting closer.

"This is Delta Three, first floor, west section, clear."

He could almost taste him.

xxxXXXxxx

The bonds slipped away from Ashley's shoulders Quickly she grabbed the ropes, holding them in place around her, creating the illusion that she was still bound.

"Ashley's free. Be ready, on my signal." Tony breathed a sigh of relief. At least she had a chance, at least they had a chance to stop the damn bomb before Jackson Alexander had the opportunity to detonate it.

"Copy that."

"Remember, if possible, that we want him alive."

He took another look, seeing Ashley, still on her knees, still watching Alexander. She had shifted position, though, coiling her legs underneath her body, preparing to spring.

Tony slid his pistol from its holster.

He saw Jackson Alexander turn away from her, just briefly.

Just enough.

He saw Ashley push herself off the floor, flinging herself at Alexander.

"She's made her move. Go, go, go."

He nodded at the rest of the Delta team and they went through the front door of the clinic.

xxxXXXxxx

It was almost harder to pretend to be a prisoner than it had been to get free. Every time he looked at her, she wondered if, this time, she'd given herself away, if the rope had slipped too far. If this time, he'd come over and check the bounds himself.

"Please let me go. I'm a doctor." Lester moved, taking advantage of the new found slackness in the ropes to try and look at their captor.

She nearly groaned aloud. She had to do something, before Lester gave her away, before he got them both killed.

"Shut up." Something moved behind him, just a shadow, a flicker of movement. He turned away from them, turning the gun away from them.

Now or never.

Ashley flung herself at him, trying to catch him by surprise. It was her only chance, she had to get that gun.

She hit him as hard as she could, as low as she could, trying to overbalance him. Dimly she heard (thought she heard) the doors of the clinic open. She tried to push the thoughts out of her head, concentrating on reaching for the gun.

She knocked it from her grasp, seeing it slide across the floor. Alexander swung at her, connecting hard with her head. Stars swarm in front of her vision and she could taste blood in her mouth.

The gun.

Oh fuck, the bomb.

Ashley dropped to her knees, scrambling away from him, desperate to get to it before a solid wave of fire swept across the clinic.

A single shot rang out in the clinic.

xxxXXXxxx

"This ones from Dave in Valencia. Today sucked for him because he got fired this morning and came back to find his girlfriend in bed with his best friend. Sounds like the start of a bad joke or a bad country song. But that really is a suckey day."

"Tracy in San Diego says that today sucks coz she couldn't get tickets for the Rose Bowl showdown. Let me tell you, Tracy, you aren't the only one having that problem. The game is sold out. So, if you don't have tickets, why don't you get yourself a few beers and listen to the game, right here on CSRFM."

"Its 635pm."

xxxXXXxxx

"Delta Four, third floor, west section, clear."

"Copy that." Tom's voice came clearly, evenly across the channels. "Chloe we're moving up to the fourth floor."

"Copy that. Watch yourself Tom." Chloe glanced at the screen, conscious of Michelle standing behind her. "Near as we can tell, the shot came from the fourth floor."

"Copy that."

"Michelle, I've got Tony on the phone for you."

"Put him through to station three. Thanks Adam." She let the phone ring twice, trying to buy herself some time to pull herself together. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the phone. "This is Dessler."

"We got him Michelle."

"Good." She breathed a sigh of relief. "What about Ashley? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, Michelle."

"Bring Alexander back to CTU for debrief." She touched her forehead, the headache retreating from her touch. "I think we might just get through this Tony."

"Yeah. I'm on my way back to CTU now. Michelle?"

"Yeah?" He was smiling, she knew he was. She couldn't stop herself smiling back.

"What do you think of the name Jessica?"

She laughed, the first time he had heard her laugh, really laugh, since she had taken the fucking job. "We'll talk about it later, okay." She put the phone down and turned back to Chloe, opening her mouth to ask how the search was going.

And then Natasha Grey walked into CTU.

xxxXXXxxx

He couldn't be dead.

He couldn't be. She still wanted to shout at him. Shout at him for going into work today, shout at him for getting shot, for making her worry like this.

"Please God, let him be alright."

She wanted to yell at him until he put his arms laughed at her and made her laugh, until he put his arms around her, kissed her and made everything all alright again.

Rebecca pulled out into the traffic, her hands shaking, trying to pretend that she wasn't crying, that she wasn't terrified that Nathan was already….

No. No, he'd be alright.

Pleas God, let him be alright.

xxxXXXxxx

Tony handed her a cup of coffee as the van rumbled back towards CTU. "So how are you?"

"Not bad." Ashley took a mouthful of coffee, grimacing briefly at the bitter taste. "All the better for seeing you guys. I owe you a beer."

Tony smiled, running his hand across his face. "Don't worry about it." He leaned back against the side of the van. "Michelle will want to debrief you, but I can probably arrange for you to do that tomorrow."

"No. I want to do it now. Get it over with." She closed her eyes briefly. "Then I want to go home and stand in the shower for an hour or so."

"Rough case?"

"It just…" She bit off her words, falling silent. "Yeah. There's just something wrong with those places, Tony. They're haunted. Too many dead babies, too much blood. So much blood." Six months of frustration, sadness, anger and loss spilling out of her like blood. Remembering the stories, the true stories she had heard. So much guilt, so much blood.

Tony put his arms around her. Letting her cry.

xxxXXXxxx

"Delta Three, fourth floor…wait we got something here!"

"Hold your positions, I'm on my way." Tom broke into a run, hurrying across the car park to the south section. "What have we got?"

"This." A Delta team member shone his torch underneath a parked car.

Illuminated in the glow, lying there like a snake was a discarded sniper's rifle. Tom smiled savagely as he stood. "Get a forensic team over here. I want them to dust the car and the rifle. He probably wore gloves, but we might get lucky."

Oh fuck, he was close.

xxxXXXxxx

"What's going on Michelle?"

"We uncovered a link between Jackson Alexander and a hit man known as Vincent."

"I thought I told you to back off Rights of the Child. I thought you had backed off Rights of the Child."

"New evidence came to light." Michelle walked around her desk and sat down. "Evidence that linked the organisation to an attempt on Amy Gardner's life and an attack against Dr Lester's clinic."

"You went against my orders Michelle."

"I know I did, but I had good reason to."

"I told you to leave this alone for a reason, Michelle. Powerful people…"

Politics. It all came down to politics. Couldn't they just let her do her job.

"It's like this Natasha. Either back me on this, or replace me as Director of CTU."

_I think the next chapter will be the last one, folks, so come on, please read and review. Pretty please…_


	13. Chapter Thirteen

This is it, folks, the last chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Song lyrics in this chapter are from Dragging Hooks by the Cowboy Junkies.

Please, read and review.

**Chapter Thirteen**

"So you lied to me, Michelle?" Natasha shook her head in disbelief. "You lied to me and you expect me to support you?"

"The only reason I lied to you was to protect you. I knew you were getting pressure from above. Jack has done…"

"Dammit Michelle! You aren't Jack. It's one of the reasons I wanted you in the fucking job in the first place." Abruptly, Natasha realised she was shouting and fought to control her temper. Shaking, she turned away from Michelle.

Was everybody she trusted going to stab her in the back?

She forced herself back under control. "What's the situation with the Rights of the Child investigation at the minute?"

"Tony picked up Jackson Alexander at the Lester Clinic about half an hour ago." Michelle grinned bitterly. "He had a bomb strapped to his chest and a gun aimed at one of my agents."

"What else?"

"We've got an assassin trapped in the parking lot. He was hired by Rights of the Child to kill Amy Gardner." Michelle fought down a sudden rush of anger. She hated politics. "He shot one of my people."

"Can you break Jackson Alexander?"

Michelle didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"See that you do." Natasha sighed heavily. "I'll get you enough time to do it."

xxxXXXxxx

Ashley walked back into CTU as if she had never been away. Back into the bustle, the noise, the confusion as if she had only been gone for an afternoon, instead of six months. She almost smiled.

Home again.

"Hey Ashley." Adam smiled at her as he hurried towards his station. "Good to see you again."

"Good to be back, Adam." This time, she did smile, tension easing out of her small frame. "Good to be back."

Tony walked into CTU, two members of his Delta team leading Jackson Alexander. "Put him into Holding, and get set up for an interrogation." He ran his hand across his face. "Adam, where's Michelle?"

"Talking with Natasha." Adam glanced up at the Director's Office. "I think they must be talking about Nathan."

"Nathan? What about Nathan?"

"Oh my God, you haven't heard." Adam swallowed heavily, his mouth suddenly dry. "Nathan was shot a couple of hours ago. Single shot, high powered rifle." He looked down and away from them. "It's bad. Real bad."

"From where?"

"The parking lot. Tom's leading the hunt." Adam tried to force some steel and some confidence into his voice. "We're closing in on him."

Tony checked the action on his pistol. "Who's running point?"

"Chloe."

"Tell her I'm going over there. Get her to let Tom know."

"Okay Tony." Adam hurried off towards Chloe's station.

"Ashley, I need you to handle the Alexander's interrogation and you're the only one who knows the case."

She didn't want to be in the room with Alexander. Not so soon after he had threatened her. Not with the life of one of her friends hanging in the balance. But she knew her job.

"Okay."

xxxXXXxxx

They were getting closer.

He could hear them now. Calling out orders, search patterns to each other, covering each other's movements, watching each other's backs. Always careful, always alert.

He peered out carefully. Watching as a team shone a light under a parked car, looking through the windows, popping the trunk. Their weapons always close to hand. They were on edge, eager to take him down anyway they could.

He fought to control his breathing, to keep it smooth and even. He didn't want to drw them to him before he was ready.

And he was almost ready.

xxxXXXxxx

"Get out of my way!"

Rebecca pressed her foot down on the accelerator, weaving through the lines of early evening traffic. She tried not to loo at the other vehicles. She just wanted to see him.

How could she have been so stupid? How could she have been so selfish?

She just wanted to see him. Even if it was just to tell him she loved him. Even if it was just to say goodbye.

She didn't want him to die thinking she didn't love him.

xxxXXXxxx

Michelle stood behind Chloe, watching as the search progressed. Chloe made another mark on the map. "Copy that, Tom." She glanced over at Michelle. "Fifth floor is clear."

They were closing in. She knew it. He was running out of places to hide.

So why did she have such a bad feeling about this? Like things were running out of her control?

She lifted a phone and dialled quickly.

"Kaufman."

"Adam, its Michelle. Has Ashley got anything out of Jackson Alexander yet?"

"Not yet." Adam's voice was distracted. She could hear Richardson, speaking softly in the background. "She's just gone in."

"Let me know as soon as she gets anything. I don't want her to be in there any longer than she has to be."

"Understood."

Michelle hung up, fighting against the sudden rush of dizziness and nausea. She stumbled, catching her balance on the back of the chair. Looking around quickly, making sure that no one had seen her brief stumble.

Chloe glanced distractedly over her shoulder. "Are you okay Michelle?"

Hastily she found her voice. "Yeah. Just a little tired. I didn't get the chance to eat today." She ran her hand quickly across her stomach. She had to be more careful, look after herself. "Has Tom reported anything from the 6th floor yet?"

There was a loud blast of noise through the speakers. Chloe flinched, reaching for the filters. "Tom, what's going on over there?"

"Shots fired on the 6th floor."

Another voice broke into the conversation, barely audible beneath the sound of gunfire. "We got a man down here."

xxxXXXxxx

"You?" Jackson Alexander sat back in his chair, laughing loudly, the sound echoing around the sterile room. "I didn't think they'd allow you to speak to me."

"Shut up, Jackson." Ashley walked over to the table and sat down. Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was sure he could hear it.

"Relax, Ashley." Adam's voice in her ear sounded encouraging, reassuring. "We already got him for the bombing. We just want him to admit it, okay."

She managed to stop herself nodding. "Who planned today?"

"I did." He looked at her. Straight at her, with those deep intense eyes that seemed to burn through her, through her soul. "God knows you, Ashley. He knows what sins you have committed, what lies you've told." His voice dropped, the words settling heavily on her shoulders. "You're going to Hell, Ashley."

She tried to ignore him, tried not to let him know that his words had gotten under her skin. "What about Amy Gardner? Who planned the attack on her?"

"How long did they brief you for this Ashley? You were with us for 6 months. Did they have you practising every lie? Every tear?" He laughed again. "You were good, I'll give you that. How does it feel Ashley? To fool good, honest, God fearing people?"

She swallowed an angry retort, staring at him for a second. Then she stood up and walked out of the room.

Adam pulled his earpiece away. "What's wrong, Ashley?"

"I can't do this. I'm sorry. I can't. I just can't okay. I'm too close."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll get Richards to do it."

xxxXXXxxx

Another shot rang out, a bullet skipping off the rough surface of the parking lot, smashing the window of the car parked behind them. Tony ducked back behind them car, wiping shards of glass away from his shoulders.

"Son of a bitch has a good position."

Tom nodded, firing another couple of shots over the top of the car, forcing the shooter to duck back into cover.

The Delta teams crept forward, keeping low. Darting between parked cars, through the shadows and light thrown by the setting sun. One of the Delta team members hesitated, caught in a single, horrible, corridor of light.

A single shot tore through his chest.

"You go left. I'll cover you."

Tony nodded. He took a deep breath and darted from cover, several Delta team members following after him. Almost instantly, shots kicked up around him.

He reached the bottom of the ramp. Conscious of the bodies of several of the Delta teams, lying around him. Bastard had taken his toll.

More shots echoed around the parking lot, as the teams pushed forward, concentrating their fire, keeping the shooter pinned down. Tom darted forward, moving into cover, behind the wall at the other side of the ramp.

He glanced at Tony, sweat running down his forehead. "You ready?"

Tony nodded.

"Lets go."

xxxXXXxx

"Dessler."

"It's Tom, Michelle. He's dead. We got him. We got him."

Michelle sagged in relief. "Thank God, oh thank God. Is everybody okay?"

Tom's voice betrayed no emotion. "We're going to need a medical team over here, Michelle."

"I'll get one over straight away." She hesitated, reluctant to play the frightened wife, but she needed to know he was okay, just to reassure herself. "Let me speak to Tony."

"Hold on." She heard mumbled voices. "…talk to you."

"Almeida."

"Hey."

"Hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll see you soon, sweetheart." She hung up, finally allowing herself to smile, to relax. They'd gotten through another day.

"Michelle."

She looked around at the sound of Adam's voice. "What is it?"

"Nathan's girlfriend is here."

"Okay. Send a medical team over to the parking lot, immediately." She took a deep breath and walked over to the slight blond woman, looking around CTU with red rimmed eyes. "I'm Michelle Dessler, Director of CTU." She put her hand on the woman's shoulder, feeling it shake with barely controlled tears. "You must be Rebecca. Nathan's talked a lot about you."

"Can I see him?"

"I've got a room ready for you. Somewhere were you'll be more comfortable."

"Can I see him?" Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh my God, he's dead isn't he?" She started to sob, harsh racking sobs that ripped through her body, clinging to Michelle.

Michelle led her quickly through CTU into the waiting room, sitting Rebecca down. She sat next to her, taking her hand. "He's not dead, Rebecca. But I wont lie to you. He's been hurt pretty badly."

"How badly?"

"We don't know yet." Michelle sighed heavily, remembering the frustration, the agony of waiting. "The next few hours will be critical. We'll just have to wait and see."

xxxXXXxxx

_See that girl, she's lost her boy, flash flood stole him away_

_Now she keeps a vigil on that suspension bridge_

_Praying for that river to return him one day_

_So sharpen up those dragging hooks_

_Tie that clove hitch tight, cast into the river boys_

_We're dragging for lost love tonight_

"And that's about all from me for today. Thanks for your company. I'll be doing this all again tomorrow, more great music, more why today sucked. Darren Hunter's up next."

"I'll see you all tomorrow, here on CSRFM."

**The End**

_And that's it folks. A HUGE thank you goes to everybody that reviewed. I hope you all enjoyed the story. Please, if you've stuck with it this far, drop me a review and let me know what you thought._

_Thanks again for reading._


End file.
